With Words I Thought I Would Never Speak
by From the Razor to the Rosary
Summary: Gerard Way and Anna Gilmore are getting married. Unfortunately for them, it's an arranged marriage. Could it be possible that this could actually work out?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I don't own My Chemical Romance or any of its members (sadly).**

APOV

I walk down the hallway, my pointe shoes making no sound on the hardwood floors of the Russian School of Ballet, otherwise known as St. Petersburg Academy. It's about ten o'clock and everyone else is at the party, celebrating our Christmas Eve, and final, performance of _The Nutcracker Ballet_. I was the Sugarplum Fairy. I'm not there because I have just received the news from my parents. I'm getting married, and not just to some rich heir or some distant relative of the Crown. Oh no. No. I'm marrying fucking Gerard Way.

--

I suppose I should back up here and explain a few things. My name is Anna Gilmore and I'm twenty five. I spent the first few years of my life in my family's mansion in the British countryside. If a certain number of people of the royal family die, I become queen. Yeah, it's pretty crazy. Ballet is my life though. And now my stupid parents are going to take it all away from me. I know what you're thinking: I'm twenty five years old; I should be able to make my own decisions. Yeah right. You try being the eldest child of one of the oldest families in England. Try having ancestors who were kings and queens and dukes and duchesses. In fact, my grandfather is a lord. Lord Gilmore. I love my grandfather, don't get me wrong. It's my parents I can't stand.

--

I quietly make my way up to my room. I need to think. I open and close the door as quietly as possible. I don't know who's about, but I'm sure there are some younger girls and boys somewhere around here doing God knows what. _You sound like your mother. They can fuck each other if they want._

I open my window and crawl out on to the roof and look out over the city. _Everything I did to get here...Everything I did to get away from all the pomp and shit...Ruined. I'll never be a celebrated prima ballerina. I'll be __**his**__ wife. _

It's not that I don't like My Chemical Romance. Quite the opposite, really. I have all of their albums, some posters, and videos of live shows I've downloaded. I suppose it's rather ironic, really, that I'm going to have to marry Gerard Way because I've had a small-ish crush on him for a very long time. So my parents kind of did something right. Except I don't _want_ to get married. Especially to someone I don't even know, even if I happen to think he's the hottest person on the face of the earth.

"Anna? Anna!" I hear someone calling. Probably Clara, my best friend.

"I'm out here," I answer. Her face appears in the window.

"What are you doing out here and not at the party?" she asks, her French accented voice gets caught by the wind, making her sound far away.

"Thinking." She climbs out of the window and sits down next to me. She's still wearing her fairy costume and it blows around in the wind.

"About what?"

I sigh. Heavily. "I'm getting married."

"_What?! _Why didn't you tell me, ma cherie? When did they tell you?"

"Just after the show, backstage. That's why I didn't come to the party," I say. Clara has a look of horror on her face. "It isn't _all_ bad...They've arranged my marriage to Gerard Way." I half-smile at her.

"You jest." I give her a strange look for her choice of words.

"No. For once, they did something right. Of course, I'll never let them know that or they'll find someone 'better.'"

"Well...Where...When do you meet him?"

"Tonight. They said he'd be here at about midnight...His flight doesn't land until eleven. The horrible thing is that everything was just falling into place and now...It's all ruined. I won't get to be the famous ballerina I've dreamed about being since I was tiny. I'll...I'll never get to be Juliet," I whisper. I've always wanted to dance Juliet in _Romeo and Juliet._

"Well, maybe he'll...they'll...let you stay until we finish _Swan Lake_ in May. After all, you _are_ going to be Odette."

"Only if Gerard and I can team up to get a later wedding date. They've already begun talking about bloody April twenty fourth."

"Why then?"

"I dunno. I was hoping so badly that they'd forgotten about arranging my marriage or that maybe - just maybe - they cared enough to let me just live my life. To let me dance. I swear, I hate them. Right now, I don't even want to marry Gerard fucking Way. I don't want to marry anyone!" I shout for all of St. Petersburg to hear.

It's beginning to snow, so Clara and I crawl back through the window. My messy room is displayed before me from my position on the window seat. Band posters are all over the walls, clothes, shoes, ballet things all over the floor. My bed is unmade. Suddenly, I wonder where he'll be sleeping. _Oh, fuck no!_

"Oh, fuck no! This is just ridiculous!" I say a bit too loudly.

"What? What's the matter?" Clara asks, alarmed but unsurprised. I tend to have random outbursts a lot. I forget people can't hear my thoughts.

"If my parents think for one minute that I'm letting him sleep in _my_ bed, _with_ me, they are sadly mistaken." She protests, looking at me like I'm crazy. "If that wasn't the case, why wouldn't he be getting a hotel room and coming to meet me _in the morning?_ I can't do this." I leap from the window seat and run into my bathroom, locking the door behind me.

"Anna!" Clara shouts after me, banging on the door. Somewhere a clock strikes midnight.

**A/N: So, yeah, I know it's weird. But people on another writing site seemed to really like it so I'm gonna try it out here. Reviews? Pretty please? And I'm starting another chapter right after I get this one up ******


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I don****'****t own My Chemical Romance.**

APOV

I'm sitting on the floor in the bathroom, leaning against the wall. I wish it would swallow me up. _I can__'__t believe this is happening._ Someone knocks on the door. _Just go away. Please._

"There is a Mr. Gerard Way here to see Anna. Where is she?" It's Madame Pavlova, my instructor. Her rough Russian accent grates against my ears. She's the last person I need around right now. She's probably the only person besides my parents who can _force_ me to do anything.

Someone sighs, probably Clara. "Hiding in the bathroom. There's no use trying to get her out, she's locked the door," Clara explains in a tired, matter-of-fact voice.

"Don't worry, I'm used to people hiding from me," a male voice jokes. _Gerard._ My conscience begins to war with me.

**Stop being a pansy and get up.**

_No, I'm never leaving this bathroom._

**No, you're leaving it now.**

_Why can't I hide for just a little while longer?_

**Because you can't hide from your problems.**

I sigh heavily and haul my ass off of the floor. I unlock the door and slip out, ashamed of acting like such a child in front of my future husband. I shudder. _Husband. Oh what fun this is going to be._

I look up and find everyone gone. _What the hell?_ I leave my room and descend seven flights of stairs, into the common area of the dorm. I stop in the doorway, where they - Gerard, Madame Pavlova, and Clara - can't see me and survey the scene before me.

Clara is sitting in a comfy armchair next to the roaring fireplace. Madame is sitting next to Gerard on the couch. I take him in quickly, scrutinizing his face. He is far more attractive in person than in pictures if that's even possible. His long black hair is all over the place, a tell-tale sign of a very long plane ride. It doesn't look bad on him though. He smiles at something Madame Pavlova says. _Sweet Jesus._ This kid lights up the whole room with that smile. Okay, he's not a kid; he's older than me, but still. What a smile. **Time to stop hiding**, my conscience instructs. I step into the room and clear my throat. They all turn. Clara looks relieved, as does Madame, but Gerard looks absolutely amazed. _What? Am I __**glowing**__ or something?_

"Um...Hello," I say awkwardly. Clara puts her hand over her eyes and shakes her head. She turns to me and mouths "costume." _Costume? What does...oh well damn._ I'm still wearing my Sugarplum Fairy costume. That's probably why he looks amazed. He's probably amazed at what an idiot I am. However, he rises and walks over to me.

"I'm Gerard," he says in that angelic voice I fall asleep to almost every night. _What? I am a girl, you know._

"I'm Anna. I um...I do own normal clothes, I just...didn't really remember I had this on," I stumble over my words, laughing nervously. _When did Clara change?!_ I start curling my feet into the _en pointe_ position - my nervous habit.

"Oh, it's okay. I'm actually wearing what I performed in...Sometime today. Well it was at three o'clock there so...yeah, that's right!" He exclaims loudly, and then his face turns a gloriously furious shade of red. _At least I'm not the only nervous one.  
_

"Well, we'll leave you two alone now," Madame Pavlova says, leading Clara out of the room. _No! Don't go! I'm antisocial and awkward! Ballet deprived me of normal social skills!!!_ I walk to the couch and sit down, leaning into it and wishing it would suddenly spring to life and eat me. Gerard is still standing, watching me.

"What?" I ask, feeling uncomfortable under his blatant stare.

"I think I'm dreaming..." he says, sort of far away, like he's thinking about something else even though I know he's not.

"Ha. If you are, we're having the same nightmare," I reply sourly. He sits down next to me.

"I don't really think it's a nightmare...You move like...I don't know. Nothing I've ever seen before. You're really graceful," he says, blushing that same furious shade again. _Wow, is he trying hard._

"Um, thanks. Look, you don't have to try so hard. I know you'd rather not be here. _I'd_ rather not be forced to get married." His face fell. "Oh God. I'm sorry. I'm such an idiot. I don't mean-What I meant was...Argh." Suddenly, he laughs. "What?" I snap, thoroughly embarrassed, my face matching his from before.

"I don't know," he says, still laughing. _He laughs kinda cute..._

"I'd really love to get to know you better, considering I worship all that is My Chemical Romance, but I just wish it wasn't under these particular circumstances," I attempt to explain. "And while I intend to do that, right now, I'm exhausted, my feet feel like they have elephants standing on them, and I'm pretty sure I don't smell too sweet."

"Oh, yeah, I'm quite tired myself. I feel some serious jetlag coming on. If it's okay with...whoever is in charge here...I'll just crash on the couch," he says.

"Yeah, that's perfectly fine. Well, I'll...see you in the morning," I reply, leaving. I can feel him watching me. _Graceful my ass. Wait until he sees me trip, knock something over, and then fall down. __**That's**__ graceful._

GPOV

I open my eyes and am confronted with several young girls staring down at me. _Oh, God, where am I? Did they dump me at a rest stop again?!_ Then it all comes flooding back. _St. Petersburg, Russia. Fiancée. Got it._ The girls start whispering.

"It's him!"

"Why is he here?"

"Maybe he got lost..."

"Um...Good morning?" I ask. The squeal and run away. "Wonderful way to start Christmas morning," I grumble. "Fuck! It's Christmas!" With everything that has gone on in the last forty-eight hours, I'd forgotten. Luckily, I had had the presence of mind before I left the states to figure out a present for Anna. I look for my small bag, finding it on the floor by the couch. I unzip it and rifle through it, looking for the red velvet box. "Aha!" I exclaim, starting a maid. I open it and look at my grandmother's necklace. It's a silver heart, slightly bigger than a golf ball, with a heart-shaped ruby in the middle. My grandmother Elena gave it to me before she died and told me to give it to the girl I was going to marry.

"Good morning," a cheery voice says right behind me. I whip around, startled; Anna is smiling at me. She looks a lot happier this morning than she did last night. She's wearing black skinny jeans and a red t-shirt that says "I ate Santa's cookies."

"Merry Christmas," I say in return. She comes and sits down next to me. She's holding some sort of present as well. I hand her the box.

"You didn't have to get me anything," she says.

"Technically, I didn't. This was my grandmother's. Open it," I tell her. Anna looks at me nervously, then lifts the lid. Shock passes over her fine features, quickly replaced by excitement.

"It's so beautiful! Oh, but I can't accept this-"

"Yes, you can. Grandma Elena would've wanted you to have it. It was her good luck charm. I know she would've liked you, and she told me to give it to the girl I was going to marry, so...You have to take it. You have no choice," I joke. She's fumbling with the clasp, trying to put it on. "Here, let me." I do it for her.

"Um...Well, this isn't nearly as nice as what you gave me, but...I want you to have it," Anna says, blushing and handing me the box. It's heavy. I start to shake it, just to mess with her. "No! Don't shake it!" she exclaims.

"Oh! Sorry!" I blush and take off the paper and open the box. A beautiful silver and glass music box sits inside. I lift it gently out and look at it. It's a piano with a little man and woman sitting at it, the woman singing, the man playing. I wind it up and listen. The tune sounds vaguely familiar, but I can't place it.

"_Beauty and the Beast_," she says. "It's my favorite and it was also my grandmother's. She always wanted to see me dance Belle, but she'll never get to. She died when I was thirteen. It was the last Christmas I spent at home."

"Wow...Thank you," I tell her, unsure of what else to say. A rather awkward silence ensues for several minutes. some of the younger dancers pop in and out of the room. "Um, so listen. Do you need any help packing? Because I don't mind, and we could...talk..."

"What do you mean? Are we going somewhere?" she asks, looking confused.

"They...They said they told you..." I say, mirroring her confusion. Suddenly, I realize what's just happened. _Those fuckers! Mr. and Mrs. fucking Gilmore told me she knew! She obviously has no idea she's going on tour with us in the U.S.! _"Um...We're flying to New York at noon...Your parents didn't tell you you were going on tour with me, did they?" I ask her, attempting to remain calm because it was clear she was not.

"Those stupid fucking bastards! God, I hate them!" she bursts. I suddenly notice her British accent. I hadn't noticed it much before, but that last outburst was in a fierce cockney. All at once, I hear violent French. Coming from Anna. _Oh dear sweet Jesus._

"Anna? Anna! Stop it! What's going on?" Anna's friend asks, running in. Anna explains-I think, she's still speaking French and I don't have a clue. Her friend, Clara, I think, says something to her, also in French. Whatever she said calms her down. Somewhat.

"I'm sorry Gerard. It's just like them to do something like this though. I'm sorry I just...exploded...Well, I assume we're taking the private jet?" she asks. Once again, I'm lost. I guess the look on my face betrays me, because she says, "Of course we are, what was I thinking? Well, we'll be making a surprise visit to Dear Old Mum and Dad." With that she marches up the stairs with Clara.

_Oh, fuck, what have __**my**__ wonderful parents gotten me into?_

About an hour later, we're at a private airport, boarding an expensive looking jet. Anna is wearing a green peacoat, her hair is up in a messy bun, and she's got on these humongous sunglasses, completing the heiress look. _Well, she is an heiress..._

"Hawkins, we'll be stopping at Rose Manor before we head to New York. I need to speak to Grandfather," Anna says. Her voice has a hard edge. This girl has a purpose.

"Ah, Miss Gilmore, I was told to take you straight to-" the man I assume to be Hawkins begins.

"I know, Charles, I know. But my parents have once again screwed me over, this time using someone else to do their dirty work. I _need_ to speak to Lord Gilmore. Please, Charlie? I promise you won't get into trouble. Tell them I hijacked the plane. Please?" The commanding tone is gone, replaced with a much sweeter one that sounds much more like the girl I met last night. Much less frightening.

"All right, Miss. You know I would've said yes anyway," the man says, smiling at her. She smiles back and we board.

"_Lord_ Gilmore? Your father is a lord?" I ask in a hushed tone as we sit down.

"No, my father isn't, but _his_ father is. My grandfather, who I adore more than anyone in the world. I'll explain when we get there," Anna says, smiling at me in a reassuring way. _She's so beautiful._

"All right. I'm really sorry about earlier. I really thought you knew...About the tour, I mean. I think you'll like it. Everyone in the band is cool..."

**A/N: Reviews? Anyone? They make me happier than waking up to find Gerard Way on my couch :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I unfortunately do not own My Chemical Romance.**

I spend the one hour flight to Britain telling Anna all about the guys. "Ray is pretty cool, he doesn't get worked up much, but _Frankie_, Frankie is an excitable little guy. He likes to attack Ray a lot, actually. That's about the only thing that Ray will freak out about because he's usually sleeping when Frankie does it. Mikey, my brother, is pretty quiet. He spends most of his time playing video games or talking to his girlfriend, Alicia. And Bob is just...Bob," I say, laughing. She smiles at me.

"Miss Anna, we'll be landing shortly," Hawkins says, walking up to us.

"Thank you, Charlie," Anna says, smiling up at him. "Listen, Gerard, um...I don't want you to think badly of me because of what I have to do in just a few minutes. I'm not proud of my background. I'd really rather be a poor ballet mouse from Russia, working for my keep, but I'm not. So, anything I say...Anything I do...Just ignore it, please? I promise I'll explain everything on the way to New York," she says, pleading me with her eyes.

"Okay..." I agree nervously, not sure exactly _what_ I'm agreeing to.

About half an hour later, I'm standing in front of a very imposing house. It's huge and it looks like it's about five hundred years old. _Jesus... _I'm swept inside by Anna. We march down an enormous hall with black and white checkered flooring. I don't have time to look at much else or I'll get hopelessly lost.

"This way," she says shortly. She suddenly stops and throws open two huge wooden doors. "Just sit in the chair by the wanky lamp," she whispers to me as we enter an equally enormous study. _Wanky? What the hell does that mean? _"Grandfather!" she exclaims loudly. I see a lamp by a large chair that has a weird elephant-looking-thing, so I sit down in it and if this isn't the "wanky lamp," well too bad. I see an old man sitting behind the desk at the far end of the study, reading a book. He is a small man, but I'm no big guy either. He has white hair and a weathered, friendly-looking face.

"Anna!" he exclaims, looking up. His accent is much more noticeable than Anna's, probably because she's lived with all different sorts of people for years. They hug each other and Anna plants herself on his desk. "Now, why are you here? I thought you would be on your way to New York? And the...young man...?" he asks curiously, motioning in my direction. I quickly stand up.

"This is my _fiancé,_ Gerard. This is who Mother and Father chose," she spits out "mother and father" like they leave a nasty taste in her mouth.

_She sure sounds like she likes me...Not._

**Remember, she warned you about this. Don't take it personally.**

"Ah, I see..." he says, rubbing his chin, almost like The Godfather. _Creepy. I hope he's not about to make me an offer I can't refuse._ _Should I bow? He is a lord, after all..._ "Well, sit down, there's no need to stand there, doddering. Now, what's the problem dearest?" he asks her. _Doddering? What does that mean?_

"Well, first, they tell me I'm getting married to him _two hours_ before he is to arrive, which is at _midnight_ on Christmas Eve. Then, they tell him that I know I'm supposed to go on tour with his band, which I did not! I thought he'd be staying with me at the Academy, but no, of course not. They used him, Papa!" she stops, taking quick, furious breaths. Papa must be what ever she calls him usually, instead of the whole pompous "Grandfather" deal.

"Calm down, poppet, it's all right-"

"No! It isn't! It's one thing to use me, but to use him?! Yes, I know he's my _betrothed_ or whatever you want to call this whole mess, but he is by no means a member of our family yet and I for one wish he wasn't going to be!"

_Fuck you!_

"It's not that I don't like him, it's just...This family is terrible. Anyone who isn't born into it shouldn't have to endure all the things that go on. And now that Grandmama is gone, Mother has free reign over my life...Ugh." Anna sends a quick glance my way to see how I'm doing, I guess. I'm not doing well.

"Calm down. Listen, Anna: you know that I am in control of this family. Whatever your parents have told you...What is it that you want me to do? Just say the word and I'll find something wrong with him - totally untrue, Gerard, I'm sure, however, you wouldn't mind..." _The hell I would! She's beautiful! If she'd give me a fucking chance..._ "I can break this engagement, dear. You know you are the only one of them that's going to get a cent of my money, don't you? Everything passes directly to you. Your loathsome sister isn't getting a thing. She should probably be in some institution somewhere for the criminally insane." The old man's eyes twinkle as he smiles at his granddaughter. It's obvious they have a very strong relationship.

"Papa...I think I do want to continue this thing. He's not so bad; he gave me this," she says, showing him my grandmother's necklace. "It was his grandmothers, and I gave him Grandmama's music box." She sighs. "I'm just so fed up with how much Mother and Father manipulate people. And as for Elizabeth...Well, you're probably right. We should commit her. Don't worry about who you're leaving everything to, you know I don't care about those kinds of things."

"Do you feel better now, dear?" he asks.

"Yes, very. Thank you so much, Papa. I wish I got to see you more..." she smiles, kind of teary eyed.

"I love you, dear. Now, you need to get going, you can't miss your flight. I'm here any time you need me," he says, standing up and hugging Anna tightly. He approaches me and I quickly get up, almost knocking over the weird lamp. "Sir Gerard, I expect you to take _excellent_ care of my granddaughter. I'll run you through if you don't." He smiles and leans toward me. "I won't worry, though...I think you'll do a fine job. Personally, I wouldn't've allowed them to arrange this whole thing if I hadn't known you are exactly what Anna needs," he whispers. I'm blown away. _Didn't see that one coming._

"Thank you, sir," I manage. Anna walks over to us. "Shall we?" I ask, offering her my arm.

"Let's," she replies. "Goodbye, Papa, I'll see you soon."

APOV

All the way to the airport, then boarding, we didn't speak. Needless to say, it's been very awkward. I'm worried about what he thinks of me now. He probably hates me. **Stop being overdramatic. **I sit down in my seat and fasten the seatbelt. He does the same right next to me.

"Do you hate me now?" I blurt.

"What?! Hell no. Why do you think that?" he asks, looking at me like my hair just burst into flames or something.

"Just...Everything I said back there..." I falter. "Can I just explain a few things?" He nods. "Well, I come from an extremely wealthy family, which I'm sure you've figured out by now. But anyway, my parents have made it their object in life to torture me, and it's always been my grandfather's job to take care of me in every way they won't. He was my first friend. My younger sister - Elizabeth - definitely wasn't. He and my grandmother decided to send me to the Academy, against my parent's wishes. Which really don't matter because Papa is still the patriarch or whatever. Anyway, I've always known that I'd have an arranged marriage, but I was sort of hoping my parents would forget or not be able to find anyone who would marry me. Anything to get me out of it. But, of course, that didn't happen, because otherwise we would not be here right now. Then, when they told you that I knew I was coming on tour with your band and I didn't...I just got _so_ angry. They manipulate people and are generally just horrible. But...Since I have to be engaged...I'm glad it's someone like you. Or rather, that it _is_ you." I look down at my lap, my speech over. I glance nervously at Gerard, who looks a little shocked.

He smiles. "Need a hug?" he asks, opening his arms. I nod and snuggle in. I hadn't realized I was cold until that moment. He smells bloody _wonderful._ He suddenly starts tickling me and I scream. He pulls me into his lap, still tickling, and I begin to retaliate.

A few minutes later, we're in a rather awkward position, sprawled on the couch with our limbs all tangled up. I'm too out of breath to move yet, and he doesn't seem to be planning on it either. "Truce?" I ask.

"For now," he says, smiling mischievously. We stay in our now not-so-awkward position for several minutes, not speaking, just studying each other. Surprisingly, it's not uncomfortable.

Gerard is first to break the silence. "About the tour...um...We're driving out of New York tonight after the show, and ah...There are only five bunks on the bus, so I'll sleep on the couch and you can have my bunk," he says.

"No, no, I'll sleep on the couch, it's fine," I protest.

"No, seriously, you can have it. I really don't care. And that way, if people are up and about in the night, if they sit on someone, it will be me and not you," he says, laughing.

"Okay," I chuckle.

"Do you mind if I sleep for a while? It's gonna be a fucking long night-slash-day...thing. Damn, I hate time zones!" Gerard says. I laugh at him some more.

"You can put your head in my lap, I don't mind," I offer.

"Nah, it's okay. I can figure something out...Maybe," he says while struggling with one of the Italian leather pillows.

"Really. My lap is way better than that thing. And, you won't wake up with your face attached to it."

"All right...If you insist." He smiles in a huge way when he thinks I can't see. I chuckle quietly to myself. _Yeah, that's what I thought._

**A/N: Please review? Pretty please? For me?**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: I don't own MCR. Sucks to be me.**

Gerard is asleep in seconds. I glance down at him; he's smiling in his sleep. I pull my iPod out of my purse and put my earbuds in. I lean back and get comfortable, listening to "Look After You" by The Fray. After that, "Cemetery Drive" comes on by none other than the person asleep in my lap, and I'm out like a light.

--

"Anna...Aaaannnnnaaaaa..." someone is cooing in my ear.

"Mmffwhut?" I mumble. I open one eye, like a cat, and see Gerard in my face.

"We landed and we have to get off now," he says, laughing.

"Oh!" I pop out of my seat. My now dead iPod clatters to the floor and Gerard grabs it for me. We exit the plane into the bright, late afternoon sunshine. "Thank you, Hawkins," I say as we leave.

"Of course, Miss," he returns, inclining his head towards me in a respectful way. I wish he wouldn't do that.

"Your carriage, Madame Gilmore?" Gerard asks, holding open the door of a big, stretch black limousine. _Ooh. Classy punk band._

"Why, thank you, Monsieur Way," I reply in a snobby French accent. I slide into the back seat with Gerard close behind.

"I just want you to know: you're going to be living with five guys who don't like to shower regularly. Make that five crazy, hyper motherfuckers. You have been warned." I throw my head back and laugh.

--

Twenty minutes later, we pull into an empty parking lot in what I suppose is the venue that My Chemical Romance is performing in. We get out and go in the back door, followed closely by a huge body guard. _What's the big guy for? Crowd control? _We enter a room with four guys sprawled all over the place. I already know all of them – hypothetically, of course. Frankie and Ray are battling it out on Guitar Hero, Mikey is observing and looking quite amused, and Bob is eating a burrito and texting. The burrito reminds me of how hungry I am, but I'm suddenly struck by a wave of my miraculous nervousness and I no longer have the ability to speak.

"Hey, guys. This is Anna, my...fiancee...that I told you about...before I left. Yeah. So this is her, and she's going to be touring with us. Try not to give her a fucking aneurism, 'kay?" Gerard says. He goes and sits next to Mikey on the couch. Frankie immediately drops his guitar and rushes over to me.

"Hi!! I'm Frankie!" he exclaims, hugging me. _Damn, he has a grip..._

"I'm Anna," I reply, rather awkwardly.

"Oh, you're British! That's good..." he says.

"Erm...I guess so..." _Aaaawkward..._

"Well, we thought you were going to be one of those weird, made-to-order Russian brides or something creepy like that because those are the only people who would marry Gerard because he's a vampire-"

"Frankie!" Gerard exclaims, running a weary hand over his face.

"Okay, okay, fine, Gerard is _not_ a vampire. Jeez...You can't have fun with these people, I'm tellin' ya," he says, making me laugh.

"Ha! Yes! I beat you Iero, I bet you at your own fucking game!!!" Ray shouts.

"You fucker! I was talking to Anna, I told you to pause it!!" Frankie yells back, tackling Ray. I hurry over to the couch and sit between Mikey and Gerard to avoid any Frankie/Ray carnage. _Mikey and Gerard really don't look alike at all..._

"I'm Mikey, otherwise known as normal," Mikey introduces himself. He has a soothing way of speaking that instantly melts away my nerves.

"Anna, otherwise known as...Well I don't have another name..." I laugh.

"Don't let Ray and Frank scare you," Mikey says. "Or Gee, for that matter. Frankie wasn't lying, he is actually a vampire. He likes to scare people." Mikey giggles manically.

"Mikes...You and Frankie better watch yourselves, that's all I'm gonna say," Gerard, or now _Gee,_ growls.

"So, Anna, what do you like to do?" Frankie asks, pouncing on Mikey, who lets out an appreciative "oof."

"For a tiny man, he weighs a lot," Mikey says. Frank makes a face, but doesn't say anything. He's still watching me, waiting for my answer.

"Um, well, I was a dancer in the Russian School of Ballet in St. Petersburg. I like erm...Music. And books." _Way to be a conversationalist._

"Oooh, ballet? Like this?" Frankie asks, jumping up and doing some sort of imitation of ballet. I think.

I giggle, "Something like that."

"Ten minutes, guys," a person with a headset says from the door.

"Thanks, Ed," Gerard says. "We better get ready guys. Will you be ok backstage, Anna?" he asks me.

"Yeah, sure," I reply with a smile. He nods and they all scatter, going to get ready, I guess. If it was a ballet, they'd have been in costume and make up for hours already.

My muscles are aching from my lack of exercise today. _I suppose it wouldn't hurt to practice just a little...No one will see..._ I turn on my iPod, praying for a scrap of battery to be left. _Score!_ I turn on my classical playlist. My favorite, "Transformation" from _Beauty and the Beast_, comes on. I close my eyes and begin to dance. I'm flying around the room, going through all the steps I've seen a thousand times perfectly. The scene would be perfect, except I'm lacking one Beast to transform into Prince Charming.

The song is over and I suddenly feel watched. I turn and see Gerard staring at me, his mouth literally hanging open. "Wow...That was absolutely _amazing_. I'd love to see you do that with music I can actually _hear_," he says. I blush and smile shyly. I'm weird about people watching me.

"Thank you," I say quietly. He comes over and gives me a hug. I feel really...safe...with his arms around me. Protected.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: I unfortunately do not own My Chemical Romance.**

We hear someone out in the hall and break apart quickly, the atmosphere in the room changing to awkward in a flash. Frankie walks in, looking a little fiendish with black X's over his eyes. I just now notice Gerard's make up, and he looks dead. Ed, the time-guy from before, pops his head in. "There you are, Gerard. Thirty seconds, let's go," he says.

"I'll see you after the show," he says, smiling and giving my hand a squeeze. I follow him to the official backstage area and stand where I can see them, but no one else can see me. When they walk out on stage, the place explodes into a deafening roar, all for them.

"How are you motherfuckers tonight?!" Gerard screams into the microphone. The crowd screams even louder. "Well, I hope you're feelin' pretty damn good, 'cause we are! I'd like to dedicate this first song to someone backstage." He looks my way and winks.

_The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You_ begins. _How did he know that was my favorite song? There__'__s something different about him... _I lean back on the wall and rock out with the greatest band in the world.

--

"You guys were amazing!" I squeal as they exit the stage. The show was _amazing._ They played all the songs from _Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge_ and _I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love_. I jump into Gerard's arms and give him a huge hug before I realize what I'm doing. "Oh! Sorry! I'm a little hyper now," I giggle, turning a brilliant red and looking at the floor.

"It's okay," Gerard replies, laughing. "Uuuuggghhh, I gotta get this shit off my face, it's disgusting. Pfft Frank, there's somethin' weird goin' on with your X's!" Gerard yells, giggling like a maniac.

Frank looks confused and then finds a mirror. "Eeew..." he says, running for the bathroom.

"Let's get on the bus before I pass out from exhaustion and you have to carry me there," Gerard says. He grabs my hand, surprising me. "I hope you don't mind that I'm going to be dead in about ten minutes? Adrenaline crash..."

"Um...What?" I ask, quirking an eyebrow.

"Well, we all get really worked up before a show, and during it, but then after...We crash. Fairly quickly. Bob is probably already passed out in his bunk," Gerard explains.

"Oh, gotcha. I'm pretty tired too...Jetlag..." I reply.

Gerard smiles that sexy little half smile at me. _Woah! Where did that come from?! __**Sexy?!?!?!**__ Okay, fine, yes, it__'__s fucking sexy. _"I figured you would be," he says. We walk up about three steps into the nicest bus I've ever been in.

A huge, black leather couch and a small booth with a table takes up one whole side of the so-called "living room." There's a plasma screen TB with every kind of movie and video game imaginable. A teeny tiny kitchen that consists of a microwave and a minifridge occupies the corner behind the passenger seat. Gerard leads me through a curtain at the end of the couch and I see five bunks, three on the right, two on the left, with a tiny walking space between them.

"This one is mine..." he says sheepishly, pointing. It's on the left, the top one. It has a Batman blanket on it that's a little used. In a good way, of course. No mysterious stains or anything creepy like that. It's black and has the little yellow symbol all over it.

"Thanks," I smile.

"Back there is the bathroom and a random little sitting...area. I'm about to fall over on you and die, so I'll just grab my pillow and get to the couch. Oh, all your stuff is in that compartment. G'night," he says. I realize we're still holding hands. Gerard looks kind of nervous and fidgets for a second and then seems to decide it's okay to give me a hug, which it is.

"Good night," I whisper in his ear. He kisses me lightly on the cheek and smiles shyly at me. He grabs his pillow and makes a run for it. "Boys..." I breathe. I grab my pajamas and throw my pillows from the floor on to the bunk. I change quickly and sleepily in the bathroom.

I find that Frank sleeps beneath me, as he is rummaging around in a compartment, looking for something. "Good night, Frankie," I say. He mutters something under his breath in the way of a "good night." I laugh and climb up, not so gracefully either. I hear Frank laugh at me.

The sheets and blanket are worn perfectly; they have that comfortable feeling. The bed has a sort of dent in one area that I sink into. If Clara were here she'd be telling me that Gerard and I have "chemistry." I would be forced to agree. The blanket smells like Gerard. _Reeeealllyyyy_ like Gerard. I inhale it like a drug.

_God, he smells so good._

**Freak.**

_Like I didn__'__t already know._

I fall asleep with Gerard singing _The Jetset Life is Gonna Kill You_ replaying in my head.


End file.
